


Ashlie is Sherlocked

by blueeyedowl



Category: BBCSH
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeyedowl/pseuds/blueeyedowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story written by AnonStoryTeller on tumblr for my enjoyment. It is on here so I can put it on my nook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashlie is Sherlocked

You closed the door behind you and were immediately hit with a cloud of smoke. You coughed and waved it away. “If you’re going to smoke, at least do it outside,” you dropped your coat and bag over an armchair and headed to the kitchen to grab a soda. “I opened a window,” Sherlock said, indeed standing by an open window, his arm against the pane and his head on his arm, staring out at the street. As he spoke, smoke escaped slowly from between his lips, his breath fogging up the glass. 

You came into the lounge and dropped yourself onto a sofa, setting the can on the table beside you. “What’s eating at you?” You weren’t too worried about Sherlock. He’d been on edge a lot lately, but there was little you could do to help him. “Everything is so boring,” he muttered, hardly moving his lips. “Still no cases?” you said lightly, opening the soda and taking a sip. “No murders? No nasty people out there for you to deduce?” You hid your smirk behind the can as he turned to glare at you.  
“No,” he said, turning away from you. You watched him carefully, then said, “Would you like me to kill someone for you?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Johanna,” he muttered. “First of all, you don’t have the guts to kill someone. Secondly, I would obviously know it was you,” he rolled his eyes. You clicked your tongue. “Damn. I tried.” You watched him a little longer before you sighed and got up to join him at the window. You slipped your arms around his waist. “There’s always the science of sex.”

Sherlock didn’t react to your touch. “That’s not a case,” he said. “It’s not the same thing.” You rested your forehead against his back. “We can make it like a role play. You can be Moriarty and I’ll be you, but instead of being mind fucked, you’ll just—” “That’s not funny,” he stopped you and moved away. You grimaced at him. “I wasn’t trying to be funny… well not really, I—” “Stop,” he said flatly and collapsed sideways onto an armchair, kicking off his shoes. You sighed. “Sherlock…”

He folded his arms over his chest and looked away. “Sherlock, you’re being a child,” you went over to him again and sat on the edge of the armrest by his head. “I know you know there’s more to life than just crime scenes,” you looked him over carefully for a response. He offered none. You sighed again to yourself and started stroking his hair gently. “Shirley, you’ve gotta get out of this rut, come on. Let’s go for a walk at least. Get some food?” He muttered, “Don’t call me that, Johanna.”

You shook your head to yourself, rolling your eyes. You took your hand out of his hair and made to get up. He grabbed your wrist quickly. “No, keep doing that,” he said. You grinned lightly and made yourself comfortable again, and resumed the stroking of his hair. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Just as he had started to relax, he received a phone call. He sat up quickly and grabbed his phone. His eyes scanned the message and lit up. “Lestrade,” he said gleefully. “A case.”

“A murder?” you matched his excitement and stood up. Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf, sticking the phone in his pocket. “A double murder,” he said with almost a maniacal glint in his eye. You gave a short laugh and put on your coat too. “This should be fun,” you said more to yourself than to him as you followed him out the door. He talked the whole way. You mostly tuned him out, but you interrupted him after something he said caught your attention. “Wait, Sherlock… who died?”

He looked at you distractedly. “What? Oh, these twins,” he waved his hand as if it was nothing and continued to talk to himself. You gaped at him. “Sherlock, that’s not nothing, that’s horrible. How old were they?” He rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he was interrupted again. “Fifteen, now shut up!” The car parked in front of the building and you got out with Sherlock and followed him in a daze straight to the morgue. “Molly!” Sherlock called as he burst in. She jumped. “Show me the bodies.” 

You throw Molly an apologetic look on behalf of Sherlock’s behavior. She turned away, saying nothing. You clicked your tongue and shrugged to yourself. You knew Molly didn’t like you much. You also knew there was little you could do about it. Sherlock busied himself looking at the young corpses. You watched him. You were never much for deduction yourself, but you loved watching him work. The way his brow furrowed when he got stuck, the way he wet his lips when he was piecing things together.

You watched him for a while longer until you noticed him take a breath and straighten up. You instinctively strode over to him and reached into his pockets. “Johanna, get my—” You had his phone in your hand in front of him before he could finish the sentence. “Phone,” he finished anyway. He smiled at your hand. “Text Jim,” he said to you. “What should I say?” you asked. “Ask him over for tea,” Sherlock said after a short moment with a sly smile. You cocked an eyebrow. You knew that smile.

You did as you were asked and texted Jim. Shortly after sending it, he responded. “Tea again? How exciting. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. - JM” You read out the text to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded distractedly, glancing over the bodies once more. “Excellent,” he said to himself. “Well, let’s be off then. Good day, Mary,” he said and turned on his heel and marched out. You gave Mary another smile, just in case, and ran out after Sherlock. You had to jog to keep up with his long strides.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked him. “There is no plan,” Sherlock said, hailing another cab. “Don’t lie to me, Shirley,” you said sternly. “Why are we having Jim over for tea again?” Sherlock got on the cab and sniffed, but offered no answer. “You think he was involved?” you asked. “No,” Sherlock winkled his nose and shook his head. “Then?” you asked pressingly again. “Shut up, I’m thinking,” he snapped. You silenced and turned your attention out the window. You trusted Sherlock enough.

He didn’t say a word the whole ride home. By the time you reached the apartment, Jim was already there, chatting with Mrs. Hudson in the hall. Sherlock greeted him with a glance before opening the door to your apartment. Jim smiled to Mrs. Hudson and stepped through the door. You were about to follow him in when Sherlock stopped you. “Why don’t you and Mrs. Hudson make us some tea?” he asked you lightly. You opened your mouth to protest but had already left and shut the door behind him. 

You glared at the closed door. “Oh, it’s alright dear,” said Mrs. Hudson. “Come with me and we’ll have some tea, alright?” she smiled warmly. With a sigh, you nodded and left with her. Mrs. Hudson chatted while she prepared the tea. “I’m just glad that those boys are getting along now,” she was saying. “Such silly games they used to play, you know? Dangerous ones too! Oh, it was terrible, I’m sure you know. Poor John, it really got to him…” Your stomach twisted at the name. “Yeah, I heard.”

Mrs. Hudson continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “I told Sherlock it was a bad idea, I did tell him. Oh, but he never listens, does he? He had to go and fake his death like that,” she shook her head and sighed sadly. You swallowed and stared at the kettle, waiting for it to boil so the piercing sound could drown out Mrs. Hudson. It didn’t, and she kept talking. “I’m sure Sherlock sees that now. Don’t think he’ll ever get over his friend, though. I suppose that’s why he likes to call you Johanna.”

Your mouth felt very dry and you noticed you were shaking. You released the fist you subconsciously had made and leaned back in the kitchen chair, taking a breath. You hated being reminded that you were just a replacement. “Sometimes I think he loves me,” you said quietly and rather hoarsely after the water finally boiled. You watched Mrs. Hudson pour the tea. “Sometimes I think that he thinks he loves me too,” you gave a short, bitter laugh. “The way he talks about him, though…”

Mrs. Hudson looked at you sadly. “I know, Ashlie. I knew it from the moment I saw them. John used to insist there wasn’t anything there, but I know what I saw. I’m so sorry, dear. I’m sure Sherlock cares for you dearly.” You nodded but said nothing. It felt weird to hear your own name again. You’d almost gotten used to Johanna. “I don’t think I can ever fill that void, Mrs. Hudson. I’m nothing like John. I’m not a doctor. Sherlock still makes my coffee the way John liked his.”

She sat at the table, around the corner from you, and put a hand on yours. She observed you with pity in her eyes. “I know, my dear. I wish there was something we could do.” You hesitated and took your hand away to pour sugar in the tea. “It’s been three years,” you said. “Three years is a really long time. And I don’t want to leave him, I don’t want to think what he’ll do if I leave, but I can’t be John’s replacement for the rest of my life. We have to do something. Maybe Jim can help.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Mrs. Hudson frowned. “I’m glad he’s behaving now, but he did start this whole mess to begin with.” “Exactly,” you said after taking a careful sip of the tea. “He started it, he’s a genius. He’s as smart as Sherlock, but don’t tell anyone I said that. He’s also impartial to this whole John thing at the moment, so maybe he could have some good idea. It can’t hurt to ask.” The hopeful tone in your voice soothed Mrs. Hudson’s expression, but she still shook her head sadly.

"You can do what you like," she said gently. "I wish you luck." "Thanks," you said and sipped your tea more. After a long silence, you heard Jim's laugh from the neighboring apartment. "How long do you think they'll be?" you asked Mrs. Hudson. She made a face and shrugged. "Who knows? The way those boys like to talk, they could be in there for hours." You heaved a sigh and finished your tea. "Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Hudson. I think I'll go for a walk, if you don't mind."

"Of course, dear," she smiled to you. You grabbed your coat and left. The outdoors greeted you with a cold gust of wind. You turned up the collar of your coat and stuck your hands in your pockets. You turned your back against the wind and walked down the street. A deep breath of cool air helped you focus your thoughts, away from the looming reminder of being a replacement, away from the curiosity of what Jim and Sherlock talked about. You braved the windchill and started forming a plan.

Jim's laughter died down with a sigh and silence filled the room. Sherlock watched him add two sugars to his tea and stir it. The silence stretched on for a very long time until Jim spoke again. "Funny, isn't it?" he said, watching Sherlock carefully. Sherlock stared past Jim absentmindedly. "Funny?" "How we could sit in a room for hours not saying a word and still have a full conversation," Jim smiled into his tea and drank. The corner of Sherlock's mouth twisted. "Funny," he repeated dryly.

Jim watched him for a moment. "That's it then? The twins? That's all you needed to know?" he asked in his usual, odd, chipper tone. Sherlock nodded. "I didn't think they were your handiwork," he said, drumming his fingertips against his lips. "I bet you're glad, too," grinned Jim. "More puzzle now." Sherlock didn't react. Jim leaned back in the armchair. "You've started smoking again," he noted. "Doesn't Ashlie dislike the habit?" Sherlock frowned. "Ashl-- Oh, Johanna, yes. She does."

Jim raised his eyebrows in not just intrigue, but amusement. "Oh, she's still Johanna, is she?" he said. He pouted his lips and said with a condescending cooing tone, "Tell me, Shirley, if I killed myself too--" Sherlock cut him off, raising his voice. "You already did that and you came back." Jim clicked his tongue, grinning. "Are you still waiting, Sherlock?" Jim asked, leaning forward in his seat and lowering his voice. "Are you still waiting for your friend to come back from the dead?"

"Colleague," said Sherlock quietly. He focused his eyes on Jim. "And no, of course I'm not." Jim continued to smirk at Sherlock for a few moments longer before rising from the chair. "If that's all then, I think I'll be off now." "Fine," said Sherlock. "Toodle-loo," said Jim in a sing-song voice and let himself out of the apartment. Sherlock rose too, after Jim left, and stood by the window, watching Jim hail a cab. Once he was out of sight, Sherlock looked back at the sofa where John once sat.

He took a sudden deep breath and whipped out his phone. He sent you a text to let you know you can return. He then began cleaning up the tea cups and things from the table. You returned to the apartment to find Sherlock lying on his couch with a blanket wrapped around him, his back to you. "Hey," you said cautiously and approached him. "How'd your chat with Jim go?" "Fine," he said. "It wasn't him." "Oh, so... we still have a case, then?" you said as you sat on the edge of the couch.

[To be continued…]


End file.
